with his legs tied?” one of the men asked.
The leader turned his head and hawked up a glob of yellowish phlegm and spat it out. “Do I gotta tell you everything, Hendricks?” he snarled. “Untie his fucking feet and then toss him up on the nag.” He pointed a grubby finger at his men. “But watch him. He thinks he’s a sly one.” He drew his gun and aimed it at Harper. “I’ll take out a kneecap if you so much as look at my men the wrong way.”
Knowing he wouldn’t have a chance to get free, Harper made no move to fight the men as one plopped a foot down on his belly, pinioning Harper’s hands, while the other man put a boot on Harper’s shin to hold his legs down as his ankles were untied.
“Hurry it up,” the leader ordered. “We ain’t got all night. And it’s a long ride to Texas.”
Stepping back quickly, the men took hold of Harper and dragged him to his feet, hustled him over to the horse.
“Get your ass up there,” one of the men hissed.
Lifting his foot to the stirrup, Harper reached his bound hands up to the pommel and swung into the saddle. He would have kicked the beast into motion if the other man hadn’t been holding the reins securely.
As they sprinted across the dark desert beneath a slice of a moon, Harper knew he was screwed. Without a gun, his hands tied, he was helpless and was beginning to taste fear in the back of his throat.
Jack Starnes glimpsed at the old woman and marveled at her stamina. Though she wobbled in the saddle from time to time, she refused to allow him to stop except to water the horses.
“We’ll stop when we’re closer to them varmints,” she’d thrown at him as she reluctantly slid down from her mount so it could drink.
“They’re making good time, Miss Coronella,” Starnes said. “We won’t catch up to them that easily. We’re gonna have to rest and let the horses rest.”
“And we know where they’re going,” Peyton said quietly.
“I suppose old man Dalton will be sweet as molasses to the boy once they get him up there, huh?” Snake spat at her. “They won’t hurt him none at all.”
Peyton felt tears gathering in her eyes, but she said nothing, lowering her head from Snake’s angry glower.
* * * *
The three men who had captured him rode through the night then into an outlaw hideout that welcomed them with open arms late the next morning. The horses were winded, sides heaving, when the leader--Harper learned his name was Trace Elliott--bartered for four fresh ones.
“Don’t think we’re being followed, but just in case,” Elliott told the outlaw boss, “I’d be much obliged if you’d take care of the matter should any trackers happen this way.”
“Sure thing, Trace,” the outlaw replied. He fondled the gun slung low on his hip. He nudged his chin toward Harper. “You taking him in for the bounty?”
Harper looked up from the place where he was sitting on the ground. He didn’t think he knew the man and thought it was just a guess on the outlaw’s part.
“In a manner of speaking,” Elliott answered. “Fucked with a rich man’s daughter and Papa’s gonna bore him a new one, I’m thinking.”
“Where’s the daughter?”
“Left her fat ass down in Tampico,” Elliott said. “She’ll most likely be in one of the whorehouses next time you get there.”
Fury radiated from Harper and he dug his fingernails into the palms of his bound hands. Hearing Peyton spoken about in such a way made him want to kill Elliott even more than he already did.
“You gonna ride out again?” the outlaw asked, surprised when Elliott’s men began saddling the new mounts. “You look as tired as a one legged clogger.”
“Can’t be helped. Can’t take the time to sleep right now,” Elliott said. “Just in case we are being shadowed. We’ll stop tonight.”
Rain came later that afternoon, forcing them to stop. They’d made good time up until then, but the weather was just too harsh and the riders too tired.
The leader turned his head and hawked up a glob of yellowish phlegm and spat it out. “Do I gotta tell you everything, Hendricks?” he snarled. “Untie his fucking feet and then toss him up on the nag.” He pointed a grubby finger at his men. “But watch him. He thinks he’s a sly one.” He drew his gun and aimed it at Harper. “I’ll take out a kneecap if you so much as look at my men the wrong way.”
Knowing he wouldn’t have a chance to get free, Harper made no move to fight the men as one plopped a foot down on his belly, pinioning Harper’s hands, while the other man put a boot on Harper’s shin to hold his legs down as his ankles were untied.
“Hurry it up,” the leader ordered. “We ain’t got all night. And it’s a long ride to Texas.”
Stepping back quickly, the men took hold of Harper and dragged him to his feet, hustled him over to the horse.
“Get your ass up there,” one of the men hissed.
Lifting his foot to the stirrup, Harper reached his bound hands up to the pommel and swung into the saddle. He would have kicked the beast into motion if the other man hadn’t been holding the reins securely.
As they sprinted across the dark desert beneath a slice of a moon, Harper knew he was screwed. Without a gun, his hands tied, he was helpless and was beginning to taste fear in the back of his throat.
Jack Starnes glimpsed at the old woman and marveled at her stamina. Though she wobbled in the saddle from time to time, she refused to allow him to stop except to water the horses.
“We’ll stop when we’re closer to them varmints,” she’d thrown at him as she reluctantly slid down from her mount so it could drink.
“They’re making good time, Miss Coronella,” Starnes said. “We won’t catch up to them that easily. We’re gonna have to rest and let the horses rest.”
“And we know where they’re going,” Peyton said quietly.
“I suppose old man Dalton will be sweet as molasses to the boy once they get him up there, huh?” Snake spat at her. “They won’t hurt him none at all.”
Peyton felt tears gathering in her eyes, but she said nothing, lowering her head from Snake’s angry glower.
* * * *
The three men who had captured him rode through the night then into an outlaw hideout that welcomed them with open arms late the next morning. The horses were winded, sides heaving, when the leader--Harper learned his name was Trace Elliott--bartered for four fresh ones.
“Don’t think we’re being followed, but just in case,” Elliott told the outlaw boss, “I’d be much obliged if you’d take care of the matter should any trackers happen this way.”
“Sure thing, Trace,” the outlaw replied. He fondled the gun slung low on his hip. He nudged his chin toward Harper. “You taking him in for the bounty?”
Harper looked up from the place where he was sitting on the ground. He didn’t think he knew the man and thought it was just a guess on the outlaw’s part.
“In a manner of speaking,” Elliott answered. “Fucked with a rich man’s daughter and Papa’s gonna bore him a new one, I’m thinking.”
“Where’s the daughter?”
“Left her fat ass down in Tampico,” Elliott said. “She’ll most likely be in one of the whorehouses next time you get there.”
Fury radiated from Harper and he dug his fingernails into the palms of his bound hands. Hearing Peyton spoken about in such a way made him want to kill Elliott even more than he already did.
“You gonna ride out again?” the outlaw asked, surprised when Elliott’s men began saddling the new mounts. “You look as tired as a one legged clogger.”
“Can’t be helped. Can’t take the time to sleep right now,” Elliott said. “Just in case we are being shadowed. We’ll stop tonight.”
Rain came later that afternoon, forcing them to stop. They’d made good time up until then, but the weather was just too harsh and the riders too tired.
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